


heart on the line

by tosca1390



Category: Psy-Changeling - Nalini Singh
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Still on Lauren, huh?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Always on Lauren,” she replies to Mariska’s gentle teasing. Judd Lauren, a first-year graduate student in the program, is the teaching assistant for her senior-level seminar, and she’s in love with him. She is! Why not own it? He is quiet and cool but smart as a whip and respects her mind. He also makes her want to strip naked in the middle of class and tackle him to the lectern, but that’s inappropriate. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	heart on the line

**Author's Note:**

> just keep on transferring those comment fics, trololo.

*

Computer science majors are known as quiet, bookish, a little strange. 

People who think that clearly have never been to a comp-sci party house on a Friday night. 

“Ugh,” Brenna mutters as she and Mariska walk into the house. The front porch is empty due to cold, but the living and dining rooms are packed to the brim already with fellow students, both graduate and undergraduate. Garish multi-colored Christmas lights decorate the eaves and the trim above them, as the smell of pine from the decorated tree in the kitchen filters in, combining with beer and sweat. “I thought we’d be early.”

Mariska, shy and sweet, shrugs. “It’s the last party before break. I think everyone’s out and about.”

Sighing, Brenna shrugs off her coat and slumps it on top of the pile going near the banister. She’s never had any problems in this house in terms of losing her belongings, and it’s been almost four years. She shakes out her hair and pulls down the hem of her bright blue sweater, threads of silver glitter shot through the soft cashmere. “How do I look?”

“Great, even in a sweater,” Mariska says, smoothing down the skirt of her simple black dress. “God, I’m jealous.”

“Eh, if it doesn’t get me want I want, I give up,” Brenna says with a laugh, her eyes scanning the crowd. 

“Still on Lauren, huh?”

“Always on Lauren,” she replies to Mariska’s gentle teasing. Judd Lauren, a first-year graduate student in the program, is the teaching assistant for her senior-level seminar, and she’s in love with him. She is! Why not own it? He is quiet and cool but smart as a whip and respects her mind. He also makes her want to strip naked in the middle of class and tackle him to the lectern, but that’s inappropriate. 

“Good luck,” Mariska says with a sigh, wiggling her fingers and moving into the mass of their fellow students and colleagues. 

Brenna retrieves a beer in the kitchen, says hello to her fellow seminar friends, and then meanders through the house, searching for Judd. He’s become friends with some of the senior undergraduates, so usually he’s here at the parties, glowering in a corner. Once or twice, when a man has gotten overly flirtatious with her, Judd has stepped in as a silent protest, as if laying a claim. She yelled at him for it the first time, but now, she understands what it really means; he trusts her, he wants her – he doesn’t know how else to express it. 

“Geeks,” she mutters, at a loss as to where to find him. The living room is loud, bad country Christmas music playing over the speakers. She sighs and slips out onto the back porch, nursing her beer. 

Leaning against the railing is Judd, tall and still. A light snow has begun to fall, sprinkling the blond shock of his hair. They are alone. She hesitates just for a moment, as his head tilts up. 

“It’s cold,” she says at last, walking over to him. She is unafraid of him, of the sheltered past he speaks little of. One night in October, here on this very porch, she listened as he told her haltingly of the advanced classes at an early age, the parents he never knew, the older brother who sacrificed much for his own good. It was that night she discovered that he was the same age as her, despite his advanced standing. 

She knows him, wants him, loves him; all she wants is to know if he feels the same. 

Immediately Judd shrugs his leather jacket from his shoulders and drapes it over hers. She inhales the scent, forests and leather, and smiles slightly. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he says, leaning his hip against the railing. 

“Hiding?” she teases. 

“Waiting,” he says, dark eyes fixed on hers. 

She wets her lips and swallows, cupping her beer between her palms. “You grade the finals yet?”

“Yes. Yours was stunning,” he says quietly. 

Her cheeks flush with the compliment. “So, the seminar is over then.”

“So it seems.”

She shifts closer, her hip touching his. “So – “

He breathes out, his hand rising to brush the snow from her hair. It’s the first touch he’s ever initiated. “So, I am no longer your teacher.”

Tilting her head into his touch, she smiles slightly. “I didn’t care that you ever were.”

“I did,” he says shortly, a man built for rules and repercussions. But now – 

“I live in town,” she blurts out. She thinks of her empty house, her brothers gone for the holiday to visit their girlfriends, just her alone in the house their parents built. “So if you don’t have anywhere to go for the break – “

His palm, cool against her cheek, curves to her skin. “Are you asking me out?”

“Is that a problem?” she bristles. 

He smiles, maybe the third or fourth time she’s ever seen the curve of his lips. “I just wanted to be the one to ask first.”

“I’m not a patient woman,” she says, lips trembling with the cold. 

In response, he leans down and presses his mouth to hers, a warm soft kiss that shivers right down to her bones. She shuts her eyes and rises up on her toes to deepen the kiss, her mouth opening to his. His fingers tangle in her hair as his other hand cups her waist, bringing her closer. 

“I like that about you, Brenna,” he whispers against her mouth, and she’s gone for him. Just gone. 

*


End file.
